


In or Out

by alyblack



Category: Original Work
Genre: Awkward Tension, Bad Parenting, Bisexual Character, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Gay Character, Gay Sex, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, Kinks, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mostly Trying New Things, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor Life Choices, Relationship Problems, Resolved Sexual Tension, Secret Relationship, Self-Doubt, Sex Is Not The Enemy, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Threesome - M/M/Other, Trans Character, Tropes, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2018-09-17 22:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9349247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyblack/pseuds/alyblack
Summary: Mr. and Mrs. Levine made the perfect little cliché American family. They went to church, they respected the morals of their community, they reunited with their entire family during the holidays, they were active republicans and god fearing catholic. At the privacy of their home, they were less tolerant than what they let out. They were ideal. There was only one little problem: Their son Oliver was gay.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This a original work and it's supposed to be a long fic. I am thinking around ten to fifteen chapters.  
> It's tagged explict for future content and the tags/relationships/characters might evolve during the writing process. Anything triggering I will be adding to the notes at the respective chapter, so don't worry.  
> I hope you like the story :D  
> See ya!

Mrs. Sandra Levine loved two things in this world more than anything else: her children and playing cupid. That was why her hands were shaking with anxiety when she left her house that morning. She finally had the opportunity to exert one of her two passions; one out of two wasn’t so bad, she thought as she walked with purpose down to her neighbor’s door.

The family who lived on the other side of the fence was friends with the Levines for as long as their children, Jay and Oliver, were five. She always thought they were a little off, but she wasn’t one to judge what God had put on this earth. Mrs. Foster was a widow and had raised her son James all by herself, bless her soul, and for that reason Mrs. Levine always thought of the young boy as a broken bird.

Usually she didn’t like her children to spear off her grid too much, but she just couldn’t resist when Oliver and James started to bond. It was natural for boys that age to form easy friendships. She allowed and soon her heart warmed up to the neighbor’s kid. The same couldn’t be said of Mrs. Foster; the woman was kind and always polite, but she never made the good friend she had first thought she would.

Their gated little piece of southern heaven was filled with the best kind of people. Good southern successful families who barbecued on the weekends and held neighborhood festivals on any given occasion. It had been a dream to move to this kind of warm community; which was exactly what had happened when she married Mr. Jonathan Levine.

Mr. Levine loved two things in this world more than anything else: his wife and his work. He wasn’t a bad father, always present and interested in his children’s life. It was really a matter of personality; where Sandra was warm and affectionate, he was stern and polish. He had been a lawyer since before he ever dreamed of meeting his current wife, it was and would always be his first love.

Mr. and Mrs. Levine made the perfect little cliché American family. They went to church, they respected the morals of their community, they reunited with their entire family during the holidays, they were active republicans and god fearing catholic. At the privacy of their home, they were less tolerant than what they let out. They were ideal. There was only one little problem: Their son Oliver was gay.

Oliver Levine was seven years old when he realized he was gay. He knew what the word meant, he knew what it implied, he knew even what his parents would say if they found it out. They didn’t. Oliver didn’t know if his parents were in the dark because they were simply unobservant of what was right in front of their faces, or if he was just really good at hiding. It didn’t matter.

The only person in his family he trusted with his deepest secret was his sister. He told her when he was eleven and having his first crush. She was older and already going to college, so he thought that she would be more open to the idea of his sexuality. It felt good to get it out of his chest and she didn’t disappoint him. She was really the only thing in his family that kept him sane.

The other person in the world who knew that part of him was his best friend and neighbor, James Foster. Jay was his age and from a completely different species. He had a much healthier home life, so when he told his mother that he was gay, it wasn’t a big deal. She was supportive and caring to his struggles. When he was little he used to dream about Mrs. Foster adopting him.

They were different indeed. Oliver was never a sports kind of boy, but it didn’t matter to his parents. They had put him on every single sport available in their little private hell; it only stopped when he finally accepted that they wouldn’t give up and decided to give tennis a shot. Jay liked playing soccer and writing poetry, he could do both and it was like watching a switch being turned. One minute he was going on and on about a match he had played and in the other he was giving Oliver his newest poem to read, they were usually pretty good. Another major difference between the two boys was that where Jay had many talents, Oliver had very few.

In fact, he was relatively young when he came to turns with the fact that he wasn’t particularly good at anything. And that was fine with him. He did everything he tried to do, but with no particular grace or over execution. In school he was nothing above average, he couldn’t draw, sing, play, cook, dance, write or even play tennis well enough for it to be “his thing”.

It didn’t bother him much. Mostly because he knew that he didn’t have to excel in school or in extracurricular activities to ensure he would have a place in a good college or a future ahead of him. It sucked and it was entitled, but it was true.

His parents had always made implicitly clear that their children would have everything they wanted, working for it or not. Kate hadn’t settled for what they were offering. She set off into the sunset all by her own dedication. If she was well off in life, she certainly didn’t thank Sandra and Jonathan Levine.

When she was a kid and Oliver hadn’t been born yet, she used to think that her mother’s love was suffocating and costly. She didn’t mean to do it, but Kate always knew that the unconditional of her affection had a price tag. Her father did everything her mother wanted and if it came to it, he wouldn’t choose his kids over her. As soon as she had the opportunity, she left home; even if her heart broke for the little brother she left behind. Kate and Oliver Levine were born into wealth and a stable family. Even so, as it often happens, they couldn’t wait to get away from it all.

Mrs. Levine was oblivious to her children’s feelings. The only thing in her heart was the sorrow of the day Oliver would leave the family home as well. The impending day of his college phase and the emptiness of the huge white fenced house. She would try and keep herself busy with exactly the sort of thing she was up to now.

She was knocking at the door as soon as her feet touched the welcoming mat. The house next door was slightly smaller than hers and Mrs. Foster didn’t dedicate as much time to her garden. The Levines had the most beautiful rose garden of their community and Mrs. Levine took great pride in that title.

The person who answered the door was exactly who she was hoping to talk to: the young James. He looked startled as if had just woken up. Inside her head, she wrinkled her nose; a young boy sleeping well past 10am was a shame indeed. Still, she gave him her biggest smile.

“Good morning, James! How are you?”

He only took a second to recollect himself from his brief shock before smiling back at her.

“I am good, Mrs. Levine. How are you?”

“I am quite well, dear. I was hoping to have a quick word with you, if you are not busy.”

“Of course not. Please, would you like to come in?” – He stepped away from the door so she could have space to slide herself inside. James didn’t know what she wanted and was scared to ask. Truthfully, Oliver’s parents were a little intimidating. She always used a warm smile in her face, but she seemed like the kind of person that was only half honest about the everyday events of life and how they affected her. Her husband never even bothered to shield away how he really felt. Which was a little less scary. If you add up the things Oliver told him and what he had witnessed and overheard in that house, he had every right to feel like the felt around them. – “Would you like something to drink, Mrs. Levine?”.

“No, dear. I am just fine.” – She didn’t have the chance of coming in the Foster house often, but it always shocked her the simplicity when she did. She knew for a fact that they weren’t poor, otherwise they wouldn’t be living next to her, but she thought they didn’t invest enough of their money on house care. Which was a shame, she really liked the construction of the house. – “Why don’t you sit down, sweetheart. I have something very important to ask you.”

She waited until he was sitting across her on the opposite couch before she started speaking again.

“You are single, yes?”

“Y-yes. Why?” – The situation was odd. Why on earth would his best friend’s mom ask him such a question. It was stupid, but suddenly he wished his mother was home.

“Well, you see, I have a very dear friend and she is in quite the pickle. She has a young daughter, she is seventeen like you and Oliver, and the girl doesn’t seem to find a nice boy to take her on a date. She asked me if I knew any boys her age to set her up with. That’s why I am asking you, if there’s anyone I would trust to recommend to my friend, it’s you, James. I have known you since you were running around naked in your momma’s backyard.”

She laughed softly, as if remembering a pleasant event from the distant past. But that wasn’t what he was focusing on; inside his chest he felt something tight. He didn’t want to take some random girl on a date. Even if he wasn’t gay, blind dates were definitely not his kind of thing. However, he didn’t want to give Mrs. Levine a reason to be suspicious. Nobody aside his mother and Oliver knew he was gay. It was more for Oliver and his mother that he kept himself in the closet, but still. Another thing that was bothering him was the reason why she came to him instead of trying with Oliver. He knew that if she had asked he probably wouldn’t have had the guts to say no.

“I am flattered, Mrs. Levine. Can I ask why you didn’t recommend Oliver instead of me? I mean, I am sure he would love to go out with your friend’s daughter.”

He had never seen such a bright glow in that woman’s eyes before. Together with the new shine, there was a hint of blunt confusion. Which was probably why it worried him so much.

“Oh! Well, that’s odd. Oliver is dating. Did you not know that?”

“Oliver is dating?”

It was hard to keep the indignation from spilling in his tone of voice. There were many reasons why he just couldn’t believe that Oliver had found himself a beard. What the hell was happening?

“Yes.” – She just couldn’t help the happiness in her words – “A nice girl from San Antonio. They met when he visited his grandma. I am surprised you didn’t know that, dear”.

A nice girl from San Antonio? Lord. The lengths Oliver would go to keep this ridiculous charade with his parents.

“I think he was just trying to avoid making me feel bad. He knows I have been having troubles finding a girlfriend.”

The obvious lie was needed to keep his cover in check. There was something ugly starting to form in his stomach and he just wanted this conversation to be over already. Still, it seemed to be enough for Mrs. Levine, who gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Well, you don’t need to look anymore. I have the perfect girl for you! So, can I give my friend your number?”

“Yes, of course. I would like that.”

“Wonderful! You are an angel, dear. Don’t worry about me, I’ll see myself out. Tell your mother I sent a kiss, ok?”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Levine. Have a good day”.

And there she left, he stayed exactly where he was for some lost minutes trying to figure out how to handle the situation. It was already bad enough that Oliver had found a fake girlfriend, but to not tell him? And what if the girl didn’t know she was in a fake relationship? What if he was actually treating her like a girlfriend? Lord. He was at sea and there was no sign of dry land. Finally, he decided he would go have a word with Oliver as soon as he was home from tennis.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If James was being completely honest, he resented Oliver a little. Just enough to bother him, but not to jeopardize their friendship. He kept trying to send those thoughts away from his brain, but he wasn’t always successful. In reality, when he stopped to reflect on the things that were missing in his life, they all somehow traced back to Oliver. Well, there wasn’t anything he could do right now. His hopes were that by going to different colleges next fall they would finally be able to have a healthier friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys :D  
> You may notice that this chapter is formatted a little differently, I liked this way better, so from now on I think it's just going to be like this.   
> There aren't any special warnings on this chapter; I think that's all. I hope you enjoy :)
> 
> See ya!

 

“Cut it out!”

            It was the first thing Oliver had ever said to him. He remembered the situation just a little, since they were so young, but the words were stuck in his brain ever since. His mother had decided to move to this haven because she couldn’t stand the idea of staying in their old house after his father died. He didn’t remember much of his father or the house for that matter, but if he closed his eyes he could see in his mind how much she used to cry. Every once in a while she still gets caught up in the sadness, but not as much now.

            Oliver was the chubby kid next door and the only boy his age around, the friendship came as much of a necessity as of a will. James recalled teasing the kid because his dark brownish hair was falling on his face in an awkward hair cut that reminded bangs. He wasn’t used to being a bully of sorts, but that didn’t stop him from making fun of Oliver until he got mad enough to scream at his face and tell him to stop.

            That was it. His earliest memory of Oliver was of himself being a dick to the only friend he had. They got passed it soon after, but Oliver never cut his hair like that again. Which was a shame, now that they were all grown up, he would probably look cute like that, or at least that’s what James caught himself thinking.

            He was waiting in his room for Oli to text him and let him know he was home, so he could go over to his house and be a dick to him again. In the short period between Mrs. Levine leaving and him vegetating in his bed for an hour, he went through an entire set of emotions; there was indignation, pity, betrayal, anger and resignation. He knew why Oli did what he did, but that didn’t stop him from being aggravated at the situation.

            He was also jealous at the prospect of not being the main person in his life anymore. Even though, logically, he knew that it wasn’t likely to happen. After all, against what it seemed to the world, Oliver was in fact gay. And this girl lived in another city. She wouldn’t meddle herself between them, even if she didn’t fully understand what she had gotten herself into.

            It’s not like they were a couple. They weren’t. Never had been. Never will be, according to Oliver. And he could be mean about it too when he was pissed at something else. James was well aware that there was nothing in the world his best friend cared for more than the closet he was in. The denial was latent and heavy between them ever since he admitted he was gay.

            James knew before he said it and he had honestly thought things would be better after he said the words out loud, but they weren’t. Not really. The denial was still there, now not at the concept of his sexuality, but whether or not he would act on it. As far as James knew, he never did.

            Oliver was seventeen now, almost going to college and he never so much as kissed another guy. He had come close a few times, some of those times with Jay. But there was a line he just refused to cross, as if by not doing anything about it he was somehow shielding himself from the whole thing.

            God, James had wanted it. Still wanted it. It got especially bad when they got drunk together. Drunk Oliver was much more open to the idea of having a taste than sober Oliver. When they were sober, Oliver couldn’t do it. When they were drunk, it was James who couldn’t.

            Now he had a girlfriend. There wasn’t such a huge record out there in the world on Oli’s love life. As a matter of fact, it was hard to pin point exactly how many times he had been with a specific girl in his life. James on the other hand was more used to the dating scenario. Or what it came close to it in his current status.

            It was complicated to date when nobody knew his real sexual orientation. He didn’t dare to flirt with anyone at school in fear of the backlash. He was only seventeen, what could he do? Go to a bar? He met random guys here and there throughout his early teens, but his fears and Oliver’s pleas kept him from having a serious relationship.

            Oliver was always under the impression that if anyone found out James was gay, somehow they would guess he was as well. The paranoia was so intense for him that he suggested on multiple occasions for Jay to date a girl for show. Well, it seemed he followed his own advice quite well. Speaking it out loud it seemed a bit silly. What sense did it make to say that if you wouldn’t come out of the closet it was for your best friend’s sake?

            If James was being completely honest, he resented Oliver a little. Just enough to bother him, but not to jeopardize their friendship. He kept trying to send those thoughts away from his brain, but he wasn’t always successful. In reality, when he stopped to reflect on the things that were missing in his life, they all somehow traced back to Oliver. Well, there wasn’t anything he could do right now. His hopes were that by going to different colleges next fall they would finally be able to have a healthier friendship.

            His thoughts were cut short when the buzz of the phone broke his concentration. Like clockwork the message had arrived; Oliver always sent a warning when he came back from practice. Usually that happened at around noon, right before Jay’s mother got home on her lunch hour.

            Mary Foster had an interesting line of work. When the neighbors asked she more often than not would tell them that she worked making designs for entertainment gadgets. She was evasive with all of the specific questions. The last thing she wanted in this community was for her peers to know she really worked for one of the biggest sex toys companies in Texas. Her job was to direct and supervise the fresh ideas for the new products. It wasn’t a super high end job, but she made enough to pay for her lifestyle. Jay would always have a secret giggle fit when someone asked his mother about her work at church or during one of the neighborhood gatherings.

            He was thinking about what she would bring home for lunch while he walked towards the Levine house to have a word with Oliver. On his way to the backyard he passed by Mrs. Levine rose garden and smiled a little; it was pretty damn neat. The house next door to Jay’s was one of the nicest of the block. It had perfectly trimmed green grass, a huge space for the roses to grow and nice white windows with blue curtains covering the insides of the living room. Nothing compared to the Foster house, but, if you were to ask James, his home had more soul.

            The backyard was accessible by a corridor on the left side of the house. They had a big pool with an unnecessary waterfall and a Jacuzzi nobody ever used; unless Mrs. and Mr. Levine were out of town, in which case Jay and Oliver would use it while having a couple of beers. It had good memories all over it.

            James finally reached the window to Oliver’s room; it was on the first floor of the two store house. That made the sneaking around during high school easier. Coincidently, there were more incidents of Jay sneaking in than Oliver sneaking out. When they were sophomores and the worry about colleges started, Jay had spent innumerous nights freaking out about extracurricular activities in Oli’s room; occasions in which the brunette would be just laughing at his best friend’s meltdown.

            When he knocked on the glass, it took Oliver a few seconds to open it. As he finally did, James noted that he was not wearing his shirt yet. Presumably he didn’t even have time to shower since he sent the text. It took him a little by surprise how different looking they were. The shirtless boy was built like a swimmer, there wasn’t anything particularly out of place or overly attractive about him, but when James truly looked, it took his breath away all the same. His own body was not like that at all, he struggled to keep his weight in check; puberty hadn’t fixed everything as it did with Oli.

“Hey, man. I thought you would give me like a second to shower and eat before you popped in my house. Jesus!”

            He chastised, but his smile and his relaxed shoulders gave it away that he wasn’t really mad. He gave way in the window for James to come inside and sit around. While he walked to the get accommodated in the bed, he looked around the room trying to see if anything was different. It sure felt like that.

“Sorry. I just couldn’t wait to get a look at your gorgeous face, asshole.” – Now that he was face to face with him, James suddenly felt less bothered about the secret girlfriend thing. Which was a shame, because he knew that as soon as he left, it would all come ringing back. It was now or never. – “I also wanted to congratulate you.”

            He showed himself slightly confused, but smiled all the same.

“What for? Did I win a mediocrity award I wasn’t aware?”

“Nah, man. I mean about your girlfriend and all. Can’t wait to meet her.”

            Oliver at least had the decency to blush when he heard the implied accusation in his friend’s tone. His shoulders abandoned the previous relaxation to assume a heavy bulk.

“How did you find out about that?”

 “Your mother stopped by my house this morning to get me to go on a date with the kid of one of her rich friends. You know, the usual. You see, it got my thinking, why wouldn’t she try to push the girl to her golden child? Then when I asked her, she told me the big news. She was truly shocked your best friend didn’t know about it. Told her you were trying not to make me feel bad because I was alone. So thanks for that, friend. You are really fucking thoughtful.”

            James thought he would feel better after his rant, but it ended up making him feel even worst. It tasted bitter in his tongue. He looked up to deep blue eyes staring him back. He didn’t see much regret or sorrow in those eyes and it made his skin tingle hot and angry.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you. I was meaning to. I had to find a way to get her off my back. You know how she gets.”

“No. I really don’t fucking know, Oliver. What the hell’s the matter with you? Does this girl know you are gay?”

“Of course not, what would be the point if she knew? I don’t even see her that often, it’s all fine, Jay. Come on. Don’t me mad at me.”

            She did not know. There was a girl in San Antonio who thought she had a nice boyfriend who liked her. He felt bad about himself and Oliver, but he felt bad for her as well. She wasn’t in the closet, she wasn’t lying, this was not her burden to carry, but she had unintendedly lifted it anyway. It bothered him how casually the whole thing seemed to be for his friend. He didn’t seem to worry about the girl at all. He truly did not seem to understand how messed up what he was doing was.

“Don’t you care about her at all?”

“Why do you care about her? Why are you so mad at me?”

“I am not mad at you! I just want to understand why you thought you had to do this.”

“You KNOW why! Oh my god. I am so tired of having this discussion with you over and over again.”

“It wouldn’t be as bad as you think, you know? I really think they would understand, even if it takes time”.

            They did have that argument in several instances; all of them had painful ends, be that physical or otherwise. Nothing could shake Oliver’s belief that if he was out of the closet his family would implode. The fear he had of losing his parents was beyond the touches of reality. It frustrated James that he was unable to pierce through those fears.

“I don’t care what you think, James! It’s my life, my family, my closet. Just back off.”

“It’s not just your closet, you fucking selfish piece of shit.”

            Oliver seemed taken back by the statement. They were entering a territory they avoided at all costs. It was very rare for their weird dynamics to be discussed at broad, sober, day light.

“Look, I am sorry. Sorry I didn’t tell you, sorry I had to do it. I am sorry, all right? Let’s just move on, please?

“Fine.” – James sighed. He still wasn’t ready to let the subject go. He wanted to fight, with fists if possible. He thought that if he made the other one bleed a little, if he could just have a scape for all his want and his anger inside, then maybe he could sleep in peace tonight. – “I am going home. I think my mom is already there.”

“I’ll text you later?” – It was more a question than an affirmation of intention. He really wanted to know if the contact would be welcomed. – “Unless…”

“Yeah.”

            That’s all James would say. He wanted to go home and erase the fight and the picture of shirtless skin. When he was turning to leave he felt fingers closing around his wrist. He turned back to see Oliver staring him back with much softer eyes.

“I really am sorry.”

“I know”.

            He didn’t pull his arm free, instead he waited until Oli felt like letting it go. When he found himself able to move freely, he crossed the threshold of the glassy window and walked his way back home. In his head a movie played of the moment that just passed; there was a pit of anguished feelings in his stomach. Getting home, he greeted his mom, she had brought lasagna for lunch.

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you want to hang out later?” - It wasn’t much and it meant peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> I just wanted to inform that this chapter is more of a filler than anything else. I am preparing myself to get into the first big arc of the story, so this one works as kind of a set up for that. 
> 
> There aren't warnings on this chapter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!  
> See ya

            When people asked Mr. and Mrs. Levine why their son wouldn’t be attending Dartmouth like his father had, they would shrug it off and say that it was because Oliver had decided to stay as close to home as possible. The secret truth was that he had been rejected by his father’s ivy league college and pretty much every other one he dared to apply. The golden eight didn’t want him. Which wasn’t exactly a shocking thing considering his academic background. Yet, somehow, his father had managed to swing his way into Rice. If you asked Oliver it was more than he deserved. Come September there was where he would be going; he intended to do his major in Economics and follow to Law at whatever college accepted him after.

            He wasn’t particularly thrilled to stay in his family home while getting his degree, even though it was completely possible considering he lived only forty minutes away from campus. It wasn’t an easy battle to convince his mother to let him live at the dorms, but he made due. His father had barely congratulated him when he graduated high school or when he got accepted at Rice for that matter. He figured there was too much disappointment involved for the old man to really care.

            It was two out of two in that front so far. Kate hadn’t exactly followed his example either. As soon as she was qualified to apply for colleges she had kept herself away from the ones her father expected her to pass; she probably would’ve if she had applied, she had always been smarter than Oliver. Instead she had gone off all the way across the country to do Chemical Engineering at NYU.  She didn’t come home often and that was probably just the way she wanted it.

            Kate’s life choices were always a puzzle for Mrs. Levine. She couldn’t wrap her head around such a promising good looking girl choosing to sway away from her family, her father’s legacy, to go to a college on the other side of the country and major in such a thing. Her confusion didn’t come from a bad place; she knew it all too well how it was to be around men who thought you just shouldn’t be there. If Kate had listened, she would’ve understood why her mother tried to dissuade her from the plan. No need to say, Mrs. Levine was in heaven that her son would be staying closer to home. Houston was a nice city to live, with everything a young man could need; there was no reason whatsoever to leave.

            Oli was happy Jay was living the dream, even if Mrs. Levine was left wondering, with a dark twist in her gut, why the neighbor had been accepted at an Ivy and not her son; he had always wanted to be a veterinarian when he grew up. It put a smile to his face to know his friend was on his way to accomplish that dream. It wasn’t such a happy occasion that the place that would allow him to do that was all the way in Pennsylvania. 

            In all their years of friendship they had never been separated for long periods of time and such significant distance. In fact, the only occasion Oliver could remember was when James had gone to play a match in Dallas for a weekend, and not much else besides that. They had grown so attached to each other that it was difficult to imagine the huge abys in between them now; be as it may, it was something they avoided discussing. A matter for another time, as it seemed to be the case with a lot of their themes of discussion.

            In less than a month they would be heading off to college and there was no way around that hard fact. The best thing Oliver could imagine off this situation was finding some balance in his life in regarding of the great amount of conflicting feelings he cultivated throughout the years. It would all be just fine.

            As the days passed, it got closer and closer to Oliver’s eighteenth birthday. He had been born in the middle of a Friday night, while his mother was staying at a friend’s house because his father was in a business trip he just couldn’t delay. She had a daughter at toe and the support of a friend she had known for three months at the time. He was born at 11:32pm, August 15th. In the pictures he looked like a chubby, healthy and cute newborn.

            He never really learned to enjoy his birthday. Even with Mrs. Levine dedicated attempts to give him the best gifts, the most ingenious parties and a full day that was entirely focused on his happiness. In reality, every new year of age he added to his belt meant only one thing: another year he was forced to stay inside a closet. He guessed it was his own luck, however. James would probably agree.

            In the Foster house, on the other hand, birthdays were taken very seriously. Mrs. Foster used to make scavenger hunts to celebrate Jay’s special day. Oli remembered him being a fairly popular kid, yet all his birthdays were exclusively celebrated in the company of his best friend and his mom. It was endearing and, when he was young, almost convinced him to give the whole thing another chance. Jay had that affect in him in general, made him want to see the best in everything, contrary to the more rational way: seeing things as they were.

            This year in particular, there was another thing that was bothering him about the party he was sure his mother would throw: Amy. Miss Amy Elliot was a bright young lady who lived just across the street from Oliver’s grandmother, Louis, his father’s mother. She hadn’t been living there for so long, given he only noticed her existence when she shoved herself in front of his car to save a puppy from a horrible fate. He liked her. He thought it might be enough. It wasn’t.

            The fake relationship hadn’t been a planned thing. They had spent time together and there was a possibility he just couldn’t ignore. A fair chance of normality, of finally getting out of his mother’s radar and her never ending mania of trying to find him a girlfriend in the family albums of her friends. Amy was a sweet girl, so why not? Of course, not telling James might not have been the best of the ideas, now that he thought about it. So, as his official girlfriend, naturally, she had been invited to his birthday party. Coming all the way from San Antonio to spend a nice weekend with his family. He desperately wanted to make things work with Amy. He also knew he wouldn’t.

            As soon as Oliver woke up that morning, there was a text waiting to be read in his phone. He took his time getting out of bed and heading to the shower before he thought of opening it to see what it was about. He knew it was probably James and there wasn’t enough strength in his body to deal with that yet. So he showered, got dressed and made his bed before heading out to have breakfast with his phone in hand. The proximity to the kitchen had always been a plus to having his room in the first floor of the house. As soon as he sat down in an empty table, he checked the message.

“Do you want to hang out later?”

            It wasn’t much and it meant peace. Oliver sighed, feeling a little happier than he was before. Since college wouldn’t start for another month, there wasn’t much he could do with his time. It was mostly practice and lazily hanging out with James. Just as he liked his time to be spent. He briefly texted back saying they could go to the movies, if Jay was feeling up to it.

            Soon his house was flooding with life; his mother had just arrived home from the gym and the house keeper was starting to take care of the house duties his mother avoided at all costs. Oliver noticed at the living room table white folders filled to the brink with various information: catering, photographers, music, decoration and things he didn’t fully understand. Resting on the side was a list with names and numbers, probably of the people who would be invited to their house come the weekend. He didn’t poke around the list to see who was in there, it didn’t really matter.

            He and James had agreed on meeting after lunch so they could take the drive back into the city and hit the movies. Giving the hour he knew there was a lot of time to spare until he could get away from home. So, he sat on the couch and listened to the movement. It only took a few minutes before his mother came down the stairs, showered and dressed as if she never knew anything but high couture. 

“Good morning, sweetheart.” – She beamed at him, smiling happily as she took a seat next to him on the big beige couch. – “How did you sleep?”.

“I would’ve slept better if I didn’t know you were planning a party.”

           Her smile faltered so briefly he would’ve missed if he hadn’t been staring at her the whole time. As he let his thoughts wonder off, he started thinking how well his mother had aged. She never let the light chocolate of her hair wear off, she kept herself always well dressed and well positioned in every room she entered. Her eyes had little wrinkles around the edges, but they remained the same bright greenish sparkle he remembered from his childhood. He had acquired the broad shoulders from her, but she was a short looking woman, she probably was as high as his chest.

“It’s your eighteenth birthday, darling. Don’t you think it’s worth celebrating?” – A shrug of shoulders was all she got, before she continued talking. – “Besides, Amy will be arriving by the end of the week, don’t you want to welcome her with the best our family can offer?”.

            If she intended to convince him, it worked the other way around.

“Ah, dear. I forgot the ask you, did James say anything about Mariah calling?”

“Who’s Mariah, mom?”

“Mariah Keller, you know her, Mrs. Anderson’s daughter? Didn’t he tell you? I was hoping he would invite her to your party.”

“He didn’t say anything. We’ll catch a movie later, I’ll ask him.”

“That would be lovely, sweetheart. And I…” – Her phone started to ring. She picked up long enough to look at the screen, before turning back to face him. – “I am sorry, dear, it’s the planner, I have to answer this. We will talk later, yes?”.

            As she walked away from the room, talking nonstop on the phone, Oliver started to think about Miss. Mariah Keller. He knew the chances of James actually inviting the girl were very slim, but the thought bothered him anyway. How ironic would it be if both of them were with girls they didn’t actually like during his party?

          Briefly he considered going to James’s house earlier, but he ended up deciding to watch something on Netflix to kill the time. Needless to say, he didn’t manage to concentrate much on the episode he chose.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver did not appreciate James’s peculiar taste for entertainment. He was always being dragged by Jay to see the most obnoxious films he could find. If his friend’s chocolate eyes didn’t shiny brightly at the sight of the cliché posters of those movies, he might have fought it a little harder. These days, the objections were mostly just to keep face; he would’ve watched anything with James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! To anyone who might be reading this: I am very very very sorry for the delay. My life has been a little crazy.  
> Anyway, if anyone is around, I hope you like it!
> 
> xoxo

 

 

            James’s car was stopped inside the mall’s parking lot for the better half of an afternoon. It was no longer hot and the sun was already starting to shy away deep into the horizon. His clock was far away from his reach, but he judged it was around five pm. As he sat in the driver’s seat waiting for Oliver to come back with a six pack of their favorite beer, he paid special attention to the comes and goes of the people around him. First, there was an old lady trying to unlock her car for what felt like an eternity. He considered stepping out to help her, but for some reason, he just watched, unable to look away or move forward. She seemed well into her seventies and he thought it was curious how getting older somehow completely changed people’s perspective of you.

            A family of four had just drove off from the space next to his. They seemed pleased and the kids didn’t look older than ten. They were lucky. No aging to creep out on them, he supposed. But, then again, he considered that he wasn’t on the brink of old age either. Somehow, there was a heavy feeling airing above his head which kept reminding him that things were about to change in a way that could never be changed back.

            Privileged as he may have been growing up, he figured it was a common feeling his generation had grown to call its own. He wanted to drive off into the world and take it by the horns. Top of the head alone and he already had a million of things he wanted to accomplish before he was an old man fighting with his keys. He wanted to win the world; he needed to win it all. At the same time, alongside his aspirations and the hot desire to succeed, he felt as if everyone around him was already miles closer to the places he wanted to get to.

            Even Oliver, with his facade of uncaring disregard towards his future, seemed to have things more figured out than he did. Oliver just wanted to get by, get rid of his fears and live a simple life away from his parent’s pressure. That was it. All he wanted was space to learn how to want things. James begrudged that easiness. When he searched inside, he saw a lot of wants he didn’t even know what to do with.

            His mother had worked hard to give him a broader set of options and now he was at bay as to what to do with them. His heart sank a little bit more every time he thought soon he would be leaving her behind to follow a dream. It was one of many dreams he had and it was the one who drove him the further away. He wondered if being a vet was what he was meant to be or if it was only an excuse to leave Houston behind.

            His head fell against the seat and he sighed, trying to push the sourness of his mood away. Oliver was taking long enough with their drinks. They had indeed watched a movie; James had chosen it. He preferred the action flicks. He lived his life by a simple motto: the louder the better.

            Oliver did not appreciate James’s peculiar taste for entertainment. He was always being dragged by Jay to see the most obnoxious films he could find. If his friend’s chocolate eyes didn’t shiny brightly at the sight of the cliché posters of those movies, he might have fought it a little harder. These days, the objections were mostly just to keep face; he would’ve watched anything with James. Particularly, he enjoyed horror. Not the supernatural kind, by all means. What he was really into was the gore, bloody, serial killer, kind of thing.

            Jay’s thoughts were interrupted when the car door opened and Oli rushed inside the passenger seat. He looked flushed and there was no sign of the beer he was supposed to bring. Jay knew what had happened before he had a chance to speak.

“They wouldn’t sell it to you, right?” – He sighed briefly. – “I told you that fake ID was shitty. Any cops?”.

            Oliver only shook his head and concentrated hard in catching his breath. The store cashier had intended to call the cops on him, possibly because kids probably tried to sneak a fake id passed him every other day.  understandable as that might have been, he had no intention in making his mother pick him up from a police department, so he ran. Which explained how hard it was now to breathe normally. He also knew Jay was silently judging him for not buying the more expensive option.

“We should probably drive off. I don’t think he will come looking, but better to not take the chance.”

            As they drove off heading back into their neighborhood, Oliver stared directly outside the passenger window, looking as lost as he had been when he had finished high school and was left with no idea what to do with the rest of his life. His thoughts were all focused solely on college, mixing his hope to get away from his family’s grasp and the fear of the huge change coming his way. Whenever he stopped to think too hard about the subject, he was left with a sweaty pair of hands and a stone-cold pit forming at the bottom of his stomach.

“Ah, I forgot to tell you; my mom asked me if her friend’s daughter had called you.” – In James’s defense, he didn’t falter at all upon hearing the question hidden in the sentence. Even though he could feel the turmoil in his head. – “She wants you to ask her to my party.”

“I didn’t hear from her. Thank God. I won’t invite her to the party even if she calls me. There’ll be enough faking already without dragging another random chick into it.”

            If Oliver thought about reopening the discussing they had started in his room, he didn’t show. Pretending to miss the direct hit targeted at him and Amy, he just shrugged it off. He was about to turn back to starring outside the moving car, when another thought hit him. This one severely less controversial.

“Do you want to hit Melanie’s party tomorrow night?”

“Oh, I can’t. I have a... A date, actually.”

            For a split second it was like the air had been permanently sucked out of the car, as Oliver gathered his words into coherence. James waited patiently until Oli decided to manifest his impressions on the news; Jay didn’t date much. In fact, the last date either of them could think of was with a guy he had met while playing a match out of town. True to his promise to keep himself in the closet, there weren’t many opportunities to date under the radar. The guys in high school were off limits and he did not spend much time exploring the town’s night life. If he was being completely honest, when the rare chances showed themselves, he would consciently avoid taking the final leap into them.

“With who?”

“Just a guy I met on Grindr.”

“Since when are you Grindr!? – Now he was looking directly at James, a light sparkle of defiance and hurt hiding behind his eyes. – Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was nothing to tell! I wasn’t thinking anything would come out of it. But I have been talking to this guy for a couple of weeks now and I am going to meet him up for drinks tomorrow.”

            The rant came out of his mouth in one single breath. Just wishing he was done with the conversation already so they could continue to politely avoid any subject related to relationships. If secretly he was hoping Oliver would show any sign of resistance to the prospect of James dating someone outside their bubble, he ignored it.

“A couple of weeks?” – Clearly not happy with the news, Oliver sighed, suddenly changing his posture. – “Don’t you think it’s dangerous? Just meeting up some dude on an app? What if someone finds out?”

“Jesus, here I was thinking you were concerned for my safety.”

“I am! Of course, I am, but…”

“But you are also worried my gayness can somehow be linked back to you.”

            He spoke the words as if reading straight from a script, his voice heavy and plain, making him feel a little empty inside. There were blurred balls of light passing through the windows of the car as they drove pass the light poles, making him feel slightly dizzy. There were no other options except to power through until he could officially end this day.

“Look, man, just be careful and… discrete. Please.”

            There were begging eyes looking straight into his; no other sign of malice or anger, just a deep sorrow and an apologetic resignation he knew all too well. James was starting to get worked up into fight mode again, when he was pushed back by a sheer wave of sympathy. As much as he wanted to have a way out of the angst feeling he was having now, he also wanted to understand. More than that, every single time he was forced back into a corner, shielding his sexuality away for Oliver’s sake, he was left with a horrible set of emotions; running between sadness and anger to worry and love.

“I’ll go to the party with you. You are right. It was a stupid idea. – James spoke like a man with a purpose and tried his best not to let out how utterly anguished he truly was.        In all honesty, he had been so desperate to have anything outside Oliver, to try and get accustomed to speak and want other people around, that he had disregarded the consequences of his actions.

“I don’t want you to cancel your thing for me, man.”

            James couldn’t help the laugh that left his lips before he could suppress it back down. It was almost ironic how true Oliver’s words had ringed into his ears. Clearly he didn’t want James to put his thing on the back burner for him; he just happened to be doing that for the past ten years.

“It’s fine. Soon we will be off to college and I’ll get more dates than I can handle.”

            He smirked again, changing his focus back into driving them safely to their homes, ignoring the bitterness on the tip of his tongue and the silence emanating from the passenger seat. To mask the coldness, he turned on the radio, as a white noise pop-song started to play, he wondered how he was going to ever get passed this feeling he didn’t quite understand, outside the certainty that it would never be reciprocated. Finally, he sighed, humming to the beat. 


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jay was holding a bottle between his hands, while sitting at the porch and smiling at him. From this angle, Oliver could perfectly see the thin scar marking his upper lip; a memory of unpleasant moments passed at that exact same spot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, if anyone is reading this haha  
> I am sorry my posting is so erratic, I can only write when the inspiration hits. I hope it doesn't suck. 
> 
> Enjoy  
> xoxoxo

 

            The days passed by fast and it was as if the Levine house hadn’t been paying any attention; one day turned into two and suddenly they were at the brink of a major party with guests coming from all over the state and things were not ready at all. Secretly, Oliver was pleased to discover the details to his birthday had been poorly timed and there was a fair chance the whole thing would fall through. It seemed, however, that regardless of the party happening or not, there was no escaping Amy’s arrival; come Friday she would be there, whether he wanted her to or not.

            Oddly, Jay hadn’t wanted to go to the gathering at Miss Melanie St. John’s house. He claimed to be under the weather and Oliver didn’t want to go enough to investigate it further. In fact, ever since the car drive back to their haven, they hadn’t spoken to each other face to face. It didn’t matter. Oliver was just fine staying away, if that was what James wanted. Come Thursday, though, he started to feel a little itchy about the radio silence from his best friend. Logically, he knew what he had done wrong, but he wasn’t ready to own up to it.

            Oliver knew, deep down, that he was being a very selfish friend. He knew it. It didn’t escape him how pissed it made James. It didn’t escape him how hurt he always looked and how messed up it was that he asked those things of him. It was messed up that he was pushing his friend into the same bottomless pit he was in, that he would stop the person he cared about the most in the world from finding happiness. It wasn’t James problem, he was normal.  He knew all of that and, yet, he didn’t stop. In reality, Oli liked to think he wasn’t such a bad person. He had some issues and he was self-absorbed, that was only natural. 

            “Come over.” – That’s what the text he received said. Simple. Short. To the point. He did not need to open or examine it further to know who it was from. He felt like it was a bit late for a visit; it was already boarding on eleven pm. However, Oliver wasn’t about to risk further aggravating his friend by denying the invitation. If he thought about warning his mother that he would be leaving the house, the consideration ran right through him.

            Oliver opened his window and hopped outside, his feet touching the wet grass. It had just rained and, apparently, the pool’s cover had been forgotten; it looked messy and dirty. The wind running through the leaves and hitting his skin felt a little too chill for the clothes he was wearing, but he figured it wasn’t worthy of going back inside. He walked fast through his yard and straight into the Foster house.

            His plan was to simply ring the doorbell and wait for someone to come get him. There was no reason to sneak around in the Foster home, after all, but Oliver did not have to take that action, since he was greeted at the front door by James. His friend also seemed to be underdressed for the weather they were facing; oddly cold for the time of the year.

            Jay was holding a bottle between his hands, while sitting at the porch and smiling at him. From this angle, Oliver could perfectly see the thin scar marking his upper lip; a memory of unpleasant moments passed at that exact same spot. When they were fifteen and Oli’s parents were out of town for an event Mr. Levine’s company was throwing, they had agreed to spend the night at the empty house.

            That night was the night of their worst fight in so many years of friendship. It happened for a stupid reason, really. Oliver did always get a little handy when he was drunk. James had told him to stop, to back off. Told him again and again that he wouldn’t be a drunken mistake he would regret in the morning. They argued and James stormed back home in the middle of the night.

            Oliver should’ve left it well alone and talked to him when they were both sober and on their right minds, but he had followed James instead. Angry and frustrated, more with himself than with his friend. He just needed an out for the hormones swirling inside his head. He had grabbed James by the arm, pushed him to hard, forced him to stay and deal with the situation.

            It shouldn’t have surprised him when he was punched across the face; the sting of the hit making his eyes water. It only took a hard push against Jay’s chest for him to fall against the stairs and fracture his jaw upon impact. The blood immediately flooded the steps and tainted the skin and clothes covering his body. The scarred cut on the lip was the only reminder of the slow recovery and the everlasting guilt that creeped Oliver every time he looked at his friend.

“What’s up?” – Oliver sat next to him, shoving his back against the column and returning his smile briefly. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.  Everything if fine. I was just… Well… I was just thinking soon we will be miles and miles away from each other. No more spontaneous hang outs in the middle of the night.” – He offered the bottle he was holding between his fingers. – “I will miss you.”

            Oli accepted the drink; his hand quickly reached out to relieve James from extending his arm. He felt instantaneously sad at the thought being exposed to him; not having Jay at arm’s length anymore, not knowing where he was, what he was doing, who he was with. Not being the first and last call. It sucked.

“I’ll miss you too.” – For a moment he busied himself with drinking from the bottle and looking down at his shoes, not sure at what to say next. – “Did you finish Dexter?”

“What?” – James seemed a little surprised about the sudden change of subject; it wasn’t as if he wasn’t thoroughly accustomed with the dodging. Oliver never did like talking about whatever made him uncomfortable. He could call him out on it, yet, he gratefully accepted the distraction. – “Of course not, I have other shit to do with my time, you know? I had to stop it for a second when Debra was melting down into her creepy love feelings.”

“Her creepy love feelings?” – Oliver was openly laughing, the corners of his eyes stinging a little from sleepiness. He didn’t understand why people thought Debra falling in love with Dexter was so out of the world; they were not even siblings. He was fairly sure that there was some psychology explanation for her to be feeling like that. He didn’t judge. – “What’s wrong with her feelings?”

“That’s her brother, dude. Not to mention a dangerous serial killer. Actually, I don’t even know the fuck Dexter is at this point. Does he have feelings, does he not? Is he a sociopath or just highly traumatized? Is he a killer or a vigilante? It’s like the writers totally lost the point of his character. I don’t get it.”

“Well, you only think that because your world is all black or white. People have layers, you know? But wait until you get to the show’s finally. Promise me we will watch it together.” – He was smiling before he realized they probably wouldn’t be seeing it together. He had no idea how long it would take James to get to the finale and they would be apart for months and months at a time. It wasn’t fair to expect James to just hold out on the ending for his companion alone.

“I promise.” – James answered as if he hadn’t considered the distance yet and Oliver didn’t feel inclined to remind him; he just smiled back and let himself slide back into the comfortable silence. The pounding on his head making him count down the hours before his party was coming back and he didn’t want to deal with that either, so he drank again.

“It’s getting late. I’ll have to be up early tomorrow to do some stuff for my mom.”

“What do you have to do? Do you want some company”?

“Hm, that’s all right. Amy is arriving tomorrow. My mom is making me bring her to some party planning meetings.”

            It wasn’t lost on Oliver the way James slightly flinched and he suddenly felt the pounding on his head get harder. He figured he needed some sleep. James didn’t answer, there was only a nod before he was on his feet, smiling at Oliver again and walking towards his door.

“You are still coming, right? To the party?”

            He wasn’t sure why he asked it, but when James turned back and smiled, nodding again, he felt glad he had; it was a shitty situation inside a shittier situation and he was just happy it wouldn’t cost him a friend. There was not enough alcohol in his blood to get him altered, but as soon as his head fell back into the pillows, he slept as if he was. No dreams and no nightmares; at least until morning arrived.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When his alarm started buzzing loudly against the wood of his nightstand Oliver woke up startled. It was already eight and he had to shower and get ready to meet his mother and Amy. The dreading had started just as fast as his eyes opened at the first swipe of consciousness. He wasn’t ready to slide in this fake romance he was supposed to be living and he really wasn’t ready to start fooling a nice girl who deserved better. Finally, he only wanted to spend his birthday with James and have a couple of beers. He sighed; better get to it then.

            Miss Kate Levine considered herself to be from a different breed than the rest of her family. While she was growing up everything around her felt toxic; her mother’s love suffocated her and the sparkle of pride in her father’s eyes made her uncomfortable. She was the first child of a couple who thought they would never get one; Mrs. Levine tried to get pregnant for years before finally succeeding.

            That was part of the reason why she experienced firsthand the rarity of Mr. Jonathan Levine’s interest. For a brief period, up until she was around 12, she had been the apple of his eyes. He would take her to ride horses with him, the only hobby he had acquired with something resembling pleasure and he would put on her shoulders the weight of his expectations.

            Of course, Kate didn’t live up to those prospects. Slowly she started growing a mind of her own; she liked numbers, not law, she liked soccer, not horses, she liked boys and girls as well. She couldn’t point out precisely when her father started to drift away; but she was undeniably happy when it happened. 

            He had been furious, in his own special detached manner, when she announced she would be going to college in New York. All she wanted was a chance to get away from her parents and to be whoever she was meant to be. Now that she was finally there, it was hard for her to go back and put herself into a vault, even if for a couple of days. Before, it had been easier to go for the holidays and pretend, but now the situation was slightly more complicated.

            It was by chance that Miss Viola O’Connell first entered her life. Kate was leaving her Organic Chemistry teacher’s apartment at six-thirty in the morning on her sophomore year when she ran into Viola entering her own place across the hall from his. Kate recognized her right away; she had seen her around campus. Viola was iconic in a way; she was one of the heads of the Black Allied Law Students Association, a member of the OUTLaw and of the Organization of Black Women.

            Viola recognized her as well; giving her the same sharp look which indicated that she knew exactly who lived across the hall from her. There was a hint of judgment in her eyes, but she didn’t say anything, choosing instead to get into her apartment and close the door with a soft push. The following time they had seen each other, Viola came to her to ask if she was okay, if she was being coerced and if she needed help. They became friends.

             Nothing happened between them for the remaining of Kate’s second year of college. She even stayed with Rick for a few more months after the friendship started. Despite thinking Viola was a bright young woman with an exceptional set of principles and big brown eyes that would take her breath away, she was content to preserve the relationship without complicating it further. Which only made it weirder when she got insanely jealous of her friend’s new girlfriend, Emma.

            Kate really wanted to be that person who would not experience possessive feelings at all, especially for someone she wasn’t even dating. However, the more she thought about it and the longer Viola and Emma stayed together, the more Kate started to realize that her feelings might be a little misplaced. It didn’t take long before Viola’s big brown eyes happened to turn to her instead.

            Within the month, they were dating. That had been over a year ago. Now, at the peak of her senior year, Kate was meant to go back home for her little brother’s birthday, but was unwilling to leave Viola behind. Her parents, of course, had no clue their daughter was in a committed, long-term, relationship with another girl. Even if the girl in question was a soon-to-be lawyer with an exceptional set of principles.

            Miss. Viola O’Connell understood dearly the struggles her girlfriend was going through and had said repeatedly that she would be all right staying; she did not tell Kate, however, how pleased she had felt upon her insistent refusal to do so. Now, they were taking a plane for a long trip to her parents’ house and Viola felt her stomach flipping over in anticipation. At the very least it would be an interesting weekend.

            Mrs. Sandra Levine woke up on Friday feeling especially happy. Her daughter was coming home and she was finally going to meet her son’s first girlfriend. She left the bed with a smile on her face and only good thoughts on her mind. She took a long bath, put on her best clothes and went down the stairs to oversee the breakfast and the lunch menu to better accommodate Miss Amy Elliot.

            She regretted the fact her husband wouldn’t be home to receive Amy; he would be stuck on the office up until later that evening. It wasn’t enough to sour her mood, however. She was determined to give the young lady a great day. They were meant to go to the city after lunch and visit the florist they had hired to decorate the house for Oliver’s party. Apparently, there was a problem with the lilies. Still, a pretty delightful day.

            When his alarm started buzzing loudly against the wood of his nightstand Oliver woke up startled. It was already eight and he had to shower and get ready to meet his mother and Amy. The dreading had started just as fast as his eyes opened at the first swipe of consciousness. He wasn’t ready to slide in this fake romance he was supposed to be living and he really wasn’t ready to start fooling a nice girl who deserved better. Finally, he only wanted to spend his birthday with James and have a couple of beers. He sighed; better get to it then.

            Miss Amy Eliot was a sophomore in high school. She was on top of her class, she was involved in several academic organizations, all her teachers liked her and she was friends with a lot of great people. Her friends described her as driven, thoughtful and smart. Family was not an issue for her either, she loved her parents dearly and they did what they could to make sure she wanted nothing.

            Of course, as perfection was a myth of the books, money was tight. Mr. Elliot hadn’t succeeded in life; having been treated to a series of unfortunate financial decisions and an overall bad luck. Mrs. Elliot came from old money, but that was long gone now; still, they formed a happy little family and things went by without much fuss. The ordeal of their economic standing restricted severely Miss Elliot future choices. There would be no high-end class if there was not an equally high-end scholarship. Her grades reflected the options she had; after graduation, she wanted to go to Harvard.

            Life was good for Amy. It got even better when she met Oliver Levine. He was a sweet young man with a pretty smile and lovely broad shoulders. It worried Amy how fast they went from meeting each other to dating, but she was happy nonetheless. She couldn’t wait to see where Oliver came from, meet his parents and find out whether this was someone she could see herself with in the long run. It would be a great weekend, she was sure.

“Morning. What time is the sacrifice tomorrow?”

            James sent the text even though he knew perfectly well what time Mrs. Levine’s parties started. He had it all by heart now; reception at 5pm, drinks at 5:30pm, appetizers started being served at 6pm, dinner at 8pm followed by a brief speech and finally cake at 9pm. Everyone was home by 10pm. The only reason why he pressed send on that stupid attempt to start a conversation was because he was feeling a little dejected.

“Be here around 6pm.”

            The answer didn’t help. He would always get to the party before everyone else and now he was being left to the mere guest position. A shower and a quick breakfast would help get him rid of the bad taste at the back of his tongue. This party would be a pain and he only felt slightly better to know if would feel the same for Oliver. “Well, happy fucking birthday.” – He muttered to himself before slipping off bed and walking in a semi haze to his bathroom. He just couldn’t wait.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James was sitting in his living room very intent into pretending he was reading a book. He had done several chores that had been on hold for weeks; he exercised and he texted a few friends. All to keep his mind from travelling back to the neighbor’s house and the beautiful blonde girl that had left a yellow car half an hour ago. He wasn’t interested and he certainly wasn’t jealous.

 

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Levine.”

            Oliver was walking towards the staircase to bring Amy’s bags to the guest room while she and his mother laughed and exchanged pleasantries. At first sight, it seemed to him that they were in love with each other; Mrs. Levine hadn’t stopped smiling ever since she saw the blonde girl leaving the taxi. He had awkwardly welcomed the girl with a hug, feeling awfully out of place with the entire ordeal.

“Thank you very much, sweetheart. Remind me to show you the garden, yes? It’s my pride and joy. Now go on, freshen up and we will be ready to go in a few minutes.”

            Being alone with Amy wasn’t something Oliver was looking forward in his immediate future. He wasn’t sure how to act around her, if she was expecting a kiss or a more intimate welcome now that his mom wasn’t around. As much as he wanted to give her that and make her feel like he had missed her, there was only so much he could push himself to do. So, as soon as they stepped into the room, he turned his back on her to leave her alone for a couple of minutes to get accustomed. 

“Hey, Oliver?” – She waited patiently until he turned back to face her. Her hair was falling on her shoulders in thick curls and overall he thought she a very pretty girl. – “We should talk. About us. Settle some stuff up, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Sit here with me for a second, yeah?”

            He obeyed her request without thinking about it too much. The bed gave out in a soft thud when his body sank into it without any finesse. All he wanted was to be done with this weekend. The distance was the only thing that made this relationship okay.

“After you came home things between us were a little in the wind, don’t you think?” – She sighed heavily, demanding his attention with her eyes. – “I have never dated anyone for real before. I am not sure how this is going to work, given we live so far away. I like you, though.”

“I have never dated anyone either. And I… Like you too. We can just take this as slowly as you want.” – Preferably in an almost stopping velocity, he thought to himself. – “I am not… Expecting anything from you, if that’s what you are worried about.”

            Oliver really did not wish he was having that talk; worse than the “what are we?” talk, this was one of the relationship boundaries conversations that he was always mortified at the thought of having. Not that it wasn’t important to establish earlier on what was and wasn’t allowed, but still… Why did it have to be so damn awkward?

“Thank you for saying that. I am not ready to have sex yet. I feel liked we should take this time to get to know each other more, you know?”

“Yeah, sure. That sounds good.”

            Amy smiled again before taking a shirt out of her bag and moving to the bathroom adjoined to the room. As soon as she closed the door, Oliver fled the room in a semi state of panic. A weird energy was coursing through his body as he replayed the conversation in his mind, trying to draw a plan to deal with everything that was happening. He wished he could talk to James about it; well, he could, but somehow he felt like it would only make it worse.

            He joined his mother downstairs instead, waiting for his lovely girlfriend to return to their company so they could go out. The flower emergency, or whatever it was that his mother was so worried about, was a great diversion of how inadequate Amy and Oliver seemed together; he felt like if both women were occupied enough getting to know each other, then they would fail to notice how poorly his attempts to fake interest were. As far as he was concerned, they could spend the entire day looking at vases.

            James was sitting in his living room very intent into pretending he was reading a book. He had done several chores that had been on hold for weeks; he exercised and he texted a few friends. All to keep his mind from travelling back to the neighbor’s house and the beautiful blonde girl that had left a yellow car half an hour ago. He wasn’t interested and he certainly wasn’t jealous.

“Jamie, can you come down here, please?”

            He wasn’t even aware his mother was home. The voice calling from downstairs made him slightly disturbed for a moment. James was convinced she had been out since earlier that morning, although he wasn’t sure where she was. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he started to think her odd absences were a little suspicious; it made him wonder if she had found herself a boyfriend. He sprinted down the stairs in a rush.

“Hey, mom. I thought you were out.”

“Oh, I was. I just got home, actually. Here, I got you this.”

            She handed him a small box with a black wrapping. He wasn’t expecting a gift all the sudden, but he took it anyway. She was looking at him with expectant eyes and a sweet smile on her lips. Still a little taken back from the gift, he opened the package carefully to discover car keys.

“Mom! What’s this?”

“Well, I am upgrading my car, so you can have the Mercedes. You know, for college. I am going to sell your old car.”

            James could’ve jumped up and down like a child with the joy he was experiencing. Not that there was something wrong with his car, but he had been dreaming about that Mercedes since he was 15. He was overwhelmed with a deep gratitude towards his mother, the woman that had raised him alone, done everything she could for him, accepted him the way he was. The same woman he was now moving miles and miles away from. He moved to hug her, sniffing quietly in her arms.

“Hey, what’s wrong, Jamie?”

“I am going to miss you, mom. I can’t believe I am going to leave you here. Why did you let me apply to a college so far away?”

“As if I had a choice.” – She laughed. – “You know I will miss you too, sweetheart, but I am so proud of you.”

             They stayed hugging in the kitchen, surrounded by bags of groceries, while James cried. His mother was soothing him, but hadn’t shed a tear. She would always keep herself in check around him, ever since his father died. Always tough, that one. When he felt himself getting his grip back, he disentangled from her arms and started moving around to put the food in its place.

“Thanks, mom. For that car. You are awesome.”

“I love you, Jamie. Don’t you forget that, yeah?” – He nodded at her and got a smile back.

“Oh. Today is Oli’s party, isn’t it?” – His soft grunt wasn’t lost on her. She turned to him with questioning eyes. – “What’s wrong? Did you guys fight?”

“No. Not really. It’s just…” – He was around 90% sure his mother knew about his conflicted feelings for Oliver. She hadn’t ever mentioned it to him, which he assumed was due to her respect for his privacy. He hadn’t, obviously, ever mentioned it to her. – “His girlfriend is in town.”

            Mrs. Mary Foster had waited around in the background for years waiting for her kid to come up to her and tell her that he was dating the boy next door. Or at the very least, for him to tell her that he wished he was. The time never came. She used to be secretly afraid James just didn’t trust her enough, but had come to realize the problem ran deeper than that. Oliver was dead scared of his parents’ reactions; with a fair reason, his parents were terrifying. As a mother, she wanted nothing more than her child to be happy and she had doubts whether it was more likely to happen if he was with Oliver or away from him.

            Still, with or without James, she was fairly sure she had understood the situation correctly. Which was why the fact Oliver had a girlfriend was so odd; it was also not her place to judge or question. In her house, there was only support.

“Girlfriend? How nice. Is she a nice girl?” – James looked at his mother and started to think about what to say. He weighted his options. – “Why is that bothering you?

“Come on, mom. I know that you know.” – She gave him a sharp look, before turning back to the groceries. – “I haven’t met her yet. We are only meeting at the party.”

“I am sorry, Jamie. That must be hard for you.”

“You do know, then? Mom! You never said anything.

“You didn’t want me to know, it wasn’t my business.” – Her gaze turned to her feet, suddenly feeling as if she was invading their privacy. – “Does the girl know? That Oliver…”

“No. She does not.”

            It was obvious that she disapproved of the situation, but said nothing to indicate her opinions on the matter. Instead, she came to hug him once more. James thought it was weird how emotional he was at that moment.

“Be careful not to get hurt.” – And James laughed at how fucking late it was for that. Still, he said nothing and let himself be comforted again. He felt specially blessed for this woman.

 

 

           

 

 

 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They worked on a delicate balance which seemed constantly about to break. It was especially hard during the apogee of the hormone frenzy of adolescence; from the ages of thirteen to sixteen Jay and Oli seemed to navigate through two extremes. When they were not trying to burn away the sexual tension building up between them with aggression and violence towards themselves and others, they were trying to steal small doses of affection from each other with hugs and lingering touches and anything else good enough to get some of it off."

            The music was soft in the background and barely covered the loud voices and the laughter coming from the living room. The blue curtains had been replaced for a new set made of silver lace that moved slightly whenever the breeze came from the open windows. As usual, Mrs. Levine had worked tirelessly to make sure the party was filled to the brink with the best food, entertainment and the best people in which she could get her hands. The furniture of the room had been rearranged to fit the catering service and the musicians; the dining room held a table twice as big and the silverware was shiny enough to be used as a mirror. It was a perfect gathering of people and anyone would be thrilled to have it all in their honor. Anyone except Oliver.

            Amy hadn’t left his side ever since their talk in her bedroom. She was the sweetest girl he had ever met, but every second he spent by her side made him want to be sick. It felt just as forced as it was and he was starting to regret ever making the decision to date her. Whenever he tried to wander off for a minute for fresh air or some solitude, someone would come and congratulate him on his birthday and his beautiful girlfriend. His mother had told all the guests willing to hear that Oliver was now dating and that the girl was amazing. Mr. Levine was still absent from the party and Oliver felt strangely thankful that he didn’t have the adding pressure of his father’s sharp eyes following his moves.

            He briefly spotted Kate standing next to Viola further down from where he was, their heads were joined together and they talked fast and quietly as if sharing a secret. Oliver envied the intimacy, if only for a second. While nobody was paying attention to him, his mind drifted away to thoughts and reflections on his sister’s life. A nice apartment in NY, lots of natural light, waking up next to a right someone on a lazy Sunday; far away from judging parents. He wanted that life, but couldn’t even bring himself to fantasy about it for over a minute.

            Secretly, Viola and Kate were making his hands sweat in an anxious despair; eventually their parents would figure out that they were a couple and all hell would break loose. He felt the worry tingle the tips of his toes, divided by the sadness that his sister would have to go through something like that and the relieve that this wasn’t happening to him, when it could’ve just as well. Never having Amy by his side felt more like a safety vest. He was grateful she was there and he would cling to her until he wasted away his last breath.

            Oliver was halfway through shoving a canape into his mouth when he saw James walking in the living room. He was wearing black jeans and what seemed to be the oversized jacket of a suit; overall Jay avoided formal attire whenever possible, but the festivities in Mrs. Levine house were not one of the situations which he could avoid. It took a little more than a second for Oliver to be spotted, without realizing, he had hidden himself behind Amy’s body; his unconsciousness was apparently more understanding of the nuances of his worries. Suddenly, Oliver became painfully aware that the biggest culprit of his anxiety was Jay’s reaction to Amy and his fake relationship. 

“Hey, can you excuse me for a second?” – The words fell through his lips without him paying proper attention. He wanted to intercept James before he could come to them. His eyes were intent on the newcomer and he barely listened to Amy’s cheery answer.

            Approaching James felt like walking through molten lava to a certain death. His breath was short and the anxiety was quietly building up to a storm inside his gut. There was no rationality behind the cold hands and the deep fear coiling in his chest; James was his best friend and given the circumstances he should understand why Oliver had to take such extreme measures. All the knowledge in the world did little to change the fact that Oli was horrified at the idea of letting James down; even if he seemed uncappable of doing anything else.

            Looking Jay up-close was a whole new world of trouble. Whenever he was sober and under broad day light in the company of others,          Mr. Oliver Levine was ready to go down fighting for two basic principles: his heterosexuality and his platonic relationship to the boy next door. It was his dogma, his absolute truth, his Hail Mary, his up and down and his dumbest fucking lie. Of course, there was no reason why he should let James know that.

            The years had made it clear that Jay was not on board with the platonic thing. Oliver was not stupid and he saw it all over his behavior, his looks, his touch, the hurt in his eyes when Oli went and said something mean about them or about how open Jay was about himself. The alcohol induced awkward incidents helped a little; it was only after a few shots of liquid courage that Oliver seemed the slightest more inclined to throw caution to the wind. During those moments, it was James who demonstrated the most adamant control.

            They worked on a delicate balance which seemed constantly about to break. It was especially hard during the apogee of the hormone frenzy of adolescence; from the ages of thirteen to sixteen Jay and Oli seemed to navigate through two extremes. When they were not trying to burn away the sexual tension building up between them with aggression and violence towards themselves and others, they were trying to steal small doses of affection from each other with hugs and lingering touches and anything else good enough to get some of it off. Things seemed to have improved and they found a state of semi-coherence and it was working fine. That was not to say things didn’t still get complicated on occasion. They were only human, after all.

“Took you long enough, man. I was starting to think you ditched me.”

“I was hanging out with my mom. She gave me the Mercedes for college. Pretty sweet.” – James beamed at the mention of the car. The layer of happiness seemed to be slightly buried under deep rooted tiredness. – “Can we go somewhere to talk?”.

            They walked through the crowd to the backyard; as they passed by the people, their shoulders would on occasion brush against each other. It was roughly around 7pm, but the darker shades of the sky indicated a much later hour. The closer they got to the edge of the pool, the more noises of the party behind them felt distant and quiet.

“So, that back there was Amy?” – James didn’t wait for an answer. The bags under his eyes seemed even more accentuated under the direct moonlight. For a moment, his hands covered his face, as he took in the smell of the grass and the expensive perfume Oliver was wearing. – “She’s pretty.”

“Yeah. She is a nice girl too. My mom’s likes her.”

“Do _you_ like her?”

“You know what I like.”

            Oliver felt the words he wanted to say crawl back into his throat as he took a deep breath: _You know who I like._ He hadn’t spoken about his sexuality out loud for what it felt like years; and it had probably been years. Constantly afraid of someone overhearing it and it making back to his parents; the fear cutting so deep that it didn’t matter even if it were just the two of them in the middle of nowhere. The rule remained silently above their heads: they simply didn’t talk about the subject. Today, however, Oliver felt trapped.

            The silence hanged heavy in the air between them and James didn’t answer. Instead, he ran his hand over the scar marking his lip; he wasn’t sure when that had started to become a habit for his nervous moments, but now it came without him even realizing.

“Is your mom coming to the party?”

“No. I think she has a date. Or least she was all dressed up and about to leave when I was coming over.” – He briefly pondered if he should tell Oliver about his conversation with his mother. – “I talked to her today. We had a nice conversation about the future and all. She… huh… knows that you are… You know.”

“What?” – Oliver chocked on dry air as he started to feel his chest compressing. It wasn’t as if Mrs. Foster would ever tell his parents, but the more people knew, the more out of control he felt. – “How does she know? She’s not going to tell anyone, is she?”

“Puff. My mom? Of course not. I didn’t tell her, I guess she just figure it out on her own.”

            Oliver started to panic; in the back of his mind he began to go back into his previous interactions with Mrs. Foster. How did she figure it out? Was it something he said? The way he acted? He always thought he was so careful and yet his cover had been made by his best friend’s mother. Not even _his_ mother knew. Or did she? Certainly, she would’ve said something. Right? The Levine youngest was so lost in his thoughts and wonderings that he missed the quiet words being whispered back to him. For a second, he forgot James was even there.

“I am sorry. What did you say?”

“I said… I said I am jealous.”

“What? What are you jealous of?”

“Amy, mostly.” – James sighed, already tired before the conversation had started. On his way to the Levine house, he had made de decision to talk this through with Oliver. No matter how hard it was, how awkward, excruciating and scary it was. The bitterness in the back of his mouth served to prove that he wasn’t ok with Amy’s presence and he was not ok with the silence rule. Not anymore. Not when they were both about to leave for good. Not when he didn’t know if he would get another chance. – “That’s why I am late. I didn’t want to come.”

            Mr. Oliver Levine accompanied his friend to the backyard without a clue in the world that this was where they were doomed to end. Having the conversation he had dreaded for the bigger part of his teenager life. Hoping it would never come and being comforted by Jay’s apparent agreement to play along. Now that it was happening, he was less than equipped to deal with the matter.

“I still don’t get why you are jealous.”

“I want to be the one introduced to your family as the person you are with” – No matter how much he looked at Oliver waiting for him to look back, he was doing his best to keep averting his eyes. – “I want to be with you. And I know that in some level you already knew that. I just… We are going to college so far away from each other and I guess I just needed you to hear that; hell… I needed to say it. I know you are not ready and I can’t even tell for sure if you see me like that, but fuck it: I am in love with you. And… Well… I guess that’s it.

            The chuckle left his mouth before he could hold it in and he was aware of how nervous it made him sound. Truthfully, there was some reason to the happy sound; he felt immensely relieved for having finally said the words. 

“We should probably go back to the party. Your mom’s probably wondering where we went.”

            Jay had mentally prepared himself to be shot down or at the very least completely ignored. He wasn’t particularly surprised that his confession was met with silence, but he still felt stupid and embarrassed, as if he had been caught doing something wrong. He just wanted to go back to the party, get it over with and go sulk alone at his bed.

“Jay…”

“What?”

            To his credit, Oliver seemed even more hopeless. His face had gotten a few shades paler and he looked like he was about to crash down to the floor. So much he wanted to say and the words refused to leave his mouth.

“I can’t… I don’t know how to…” – He was painfully aware of how lame his attempts at getting the message through were, but he could only hope that James could make some sense out of what he was trying to say. – “I am sorry.”

“I know. I am not really… You know… Waiting for anything from you. I would never ask you to come out for me. You got to do it for yourself and in your own time. I just wanted you to know where I am, to know that I am here. Even if it isn’t like that, if you ever need me when you do decide to tell your parents, I am still going to be here.” – Finally, Oliver looked him straight into the eyes. They were shinning with what seemed like a subtle hint of tears. – “I am just scared. Scared that you are going to end up marrying some girl and having a couple of kids; that life will pass by and you will end up stuck into something you never really wanted. Just want you to be happy, Oli.”

“I… I know. Thank you. I appreciate it. I know I have a lot of stuff to figure out.”

“Come on. Let’s go, I am starting to get hungry and your mom is probably waiting for us to serve the dinner. Besides, I want to meet this chick I hear is great.”

            The smile exchanged between them was tentative, but it helped ease the air; Oliver felt like at any time he would faint or run or get on his knees and beg James for forgiveness. He just hoped he could get away from the party before the reality of what had happened came crashing for real. Until then, he tried to put his best mask and head back to his guests. James followed him, appearing to share the same strategy. This time, when they walked, there was a small distance between their bodies that felt like an abyss.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What Miss Kate Levine felt when her mother had walked in while she was sharing a kiss with the woman she wanted to marry was not shame. Or fear. Or surprise. It really wasn’t. Deep down, she knew, it was perfectly possible that this would happen and she had accepted the odds. She refused to apologize. If anything, behind the shock of the moment, there was a bit of relieve to finally be out. Of course, after Mr. Levine had shown up, she started second guessing the lightness from before."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry for the awful delay <3

             The screaming was the first thing Oliver noticed when he opened the door back to the living room. With James on his toe and an absence of noise coming from the band and the guests, his blood ran cold for a second, before he glanced around to look for his sister or his parents. When he couldn’t spot them anywhere, he already knew what had happened. A few scenarios came crashing into his head, while he took deep breaths and walked to the origin of the shouting.

            There was a thick layer of palpable tension in the air. Kate was standing between Viola and their father when he opened the door and pushed himself inside before anyone could get a peek at the scene unfolding. Oliver had rarely seen Mr. Levine in this level of cold anger before. Never a man of outbursts, Jonathan Levine had made for himself a law career that specifically counted on him being level minded at all times. In moments like this, however, Oliver felt scared. Without changing his tone, it seemed like his father could convey a dozen different feelings in a sentence.

            The petrified look on Viola’s face finished telling him the story he felt he could’ve written himself. He knew that Kate had taken a risk by bringing her girlfriend home. Now, exactly what he was afraid of happening, happened. They had been caught. Or, at the very least, someone was suspicious of something.

“I didn’t raise you to be like this. Do you have any idea what my colleagues will say? The party? Our friends? Don’t you have any consideration of the stress you are putting your mother through?” – He caught him saying.

            What Miss Kate Levine felt when her mother had walked in while she was sharing a kiss with the woman she wanted to marry was not shame. Or fear. Or surprise. It really wasn’t. Deep down, she knew, it was perfectly possible that this would happen and she had accepted the odds.  She refused to apologize. If anything, behind the shock of the moment, there was a bit of relieve to finally be out. Of course, after Mr. Levine had shown up, she started second guessing the lightness from before.

            Kate knew by heart what her parents, specially her father, thought of people like her. They were fine, as long as they were not family. They were fine, as long as they didn’t have to see them. They were fine, as long as they didn’t ask for more than what they were willing to give them. She knew and she sure as hell was not surprised about the reaction. The wetness of tears smearing the pristine makeup work on her mother’s face, the cold distance covering anger on her father’s. It was all to be expected. She felt immensely bad for Viola, however. She had been raised in a welcoming family and, aside a few incidents, had remained unscathed from family disapproval. Kate wished she could’ve shielded her from this one too.

            It was innocent. Kate and Viola entered the library simply to escape the guests. There was too much noise and a few too many people interested in the novelty of the Levine girl shooting away to New York. All they had aimed for was a little time alone. Miss Levine suggested going to the secluded room next to her father’s office and her favorite room in the house. Growing up, it was the only place where she could gather her thoughts. Passing her fingers through the books had brought up a few good memories, so she picked one up, sat by the cold fireplace and brought her guest to her side. It was a comfortable moment that reminded them of home; when they kissed, Kate could almost smell the cinnamon candles Viola loved putting around the apartment.

            Tough as she was, it still didn’t feel so good when Mrs. Levine busted through the door. The smile drastically dying out and the shocked expression outlining the few wrinkles around her eyes.

“Mom, I can explain.” – It wasn’t quite what she wanted to say, but the words were thick around her throat. What was there to explain, really? – “Viola’s my girlfriend. We are living together. I… I love her.”

            Mrs. Sandra Levine avoided thinking about unpleasant things on her day to day life. If she could help it, she didn’t think it at all. The worries of the world were meant to be carried by the people who lived on the other side of the fence and aside a few charity initiatives, they weren’t hers to concern over. She got married young to a man that would be able to provide for her and the children they would have, so she would never have to worry again.

            She had raised her children to thrive in their world, but felt she had somehow failed to teach them about all the rest. The only thing she had wanted was to protect them from the pain and the suffering that would inevitably catch up to them one way or another. Apparently, she failed on that as well.

            Kate was a beautiful, smart and independent young woman and when she moved all the way to New York to escape her family, Mrs. Levine knew it was only a matter of time before something irreversibly hurt her little girl. Now, that had happened and she had no idea how to make it stop. If only her mouth worked and the words came out. She wanted to tell her that it wasn’t a big deal, that they would get over it, that her father didn’t have to know, that she would find a way to fix it, but she said none of it. She merely stared and the scene in front of her in a dead silence.

“Mom?”

“Why is everyone in here?” – The deep tone of Mr. Jonathan Levine burst through the air as if it carried material weight. – “Sandra, why are you crying?”.

“What? Oh, dear. You are here, no reason. I was just chocked up about the kids growing up. It’s all”.

            Mr. Levine was clearly not convinced. He kept looking from his wife to his daughter and didn’t fail to notice the scared expression on the guest’s face or the fact Kate looked at him as if she was waiting for him to start screaming.

“Dad.” – Kate took a deep breath and moved forward to face her father. Viola was right behind her and tried to hold her back, whispering softly to discourage the truth from spilling out and finish overflowing the barrel. – “I think you should know. Viola’s not my friend, well, not only my friend. We’ve been living together for a while now. She’s m-my girlfriend.”

“What?”

“I like girls. And boys. I like both.”

            When the argument began, Miss Viola tried to be a quiet source of support and warmth for Kate, politely asserting her presence, by taking her hand between hers and holding on for the ride. Still, she wasn’t used to it; the prejudices to which she had been exposed were never regarding her sexuality. Now, hearing Kate’s father convey a lifetime of LGBT hatred in a few, short breathed sentences, she could feel her girlfriend slipping from her grasp; cloistered back into the closet she called home.  Mrs. Levine, for her part, tried to fight back the tears, quietly mumbling empty reassurances, while her husband drove cutting knives on their daughter.

“Jonathan, stop it. Honey, we can fix this, all right? It doesn’t have to be like this.” – She had said, putting her hand on Mr. Levine’s arm, trying to bring his attention away from Kate. – “Katie, we will help you get through this, okay? There’s people we can talk to, you will see.”

“Stop it, Sandra. You can shy this away. I knew she would lose her way if she left for New York. Now this… Girl has put these ideas in her head.”

“Dad! Nobody put any ideas in my head, this what I was always like.”

“You have no idea what you are talking about, Kate!

            Oliver felt that nobody noticed when he entered the room, his parents didn’t even glance at his direction. The only one who seemed to burst out of the bubble was Viola, looking at him with begging eyes; he felt sorry for her and his sister, but felt worse about how unequipped he was to deal with the situation at hand.

“I want this girl out of my house immediately. If you go with her, you don’t have to come back.”

“Jonathan!”

“It’s final, Sandra.”

            As Mr. Levine left the room, Kate finally noticed the shaking of her body. What she would’ve done if Viola wasn’t right behind her, she had no idea. Maybe coming out to her parents would’ve been harder then, maybe she would’ve given up halfway, but she felt unable to let down the woman she had decided to love. Before she could help it, she was crying in her arms.

            Mrs. Levine was paralyzed and her words once again escaped her. The fear in her gut made her nauseated and all she wanted was to take a pill and sleep. Her heart ached to bring her daughter to her embrace, but her legs didn’t obey. Instead, she wiped the tears, looked at the scene unfolding in front of her and chose to do as she often did.

“I’ll talk to him.” – She ignored the problem, smiled and left.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Netflix was doing very little to distract him from the growing anxiety. As he watched the first season of Dexter for what it felt like the seventh time, his mind kept going back to an endless streaming of variations of the same thing: Oliver, Oliver, Oliver, Oliver. "

           If you can be with a man, why won’t you?

           Miss Kate Levine had dreaded the words ever since she learned what she was, or, better yet, when she learned that it had a proper name: bisexual. She had played around with the term on the tip of her tongue for months on end, testing it, emulating it, covering it with saliva and shoving it back down. Finally, once she was ready, she stood in front of the mirror and said it out loud. Nobody around to hear or witness the tiny milestone she wanted to savor forever.

           She read books about it, watched documentaries, heard others like her and their experiences, absorbed all she could, soaking up the knowledge that she wasn’t alone; there was merely a gateway keeping her from a community she wanted to embrace. Unfortunately, the understanding came with the fear. Hand in hand, she had also learned there were people who would hurt and judge her.

           Her parents were those people. The silent judgement they gave strangers in passing, when all they were guilty off was holding hands, talking a bit too loud, wearing a certain type of clothing or a corky hair style. There was nothing obvious about the prejudice her family harbored, but she knew it was there all the same. Covered for the sake of a mild appearance to the world outside, she was aware it ran deep.

           Leaving home had been freeing. Scared as she might have been, it didn’t hold a candle to the constant horror of being found out when there was nowhere to which she could escape. While fully dependent on her parents, Kate had learned to choose the battles she wanted to fight; her sexuality was, perhaps, one too many. She expressed the resentment in other, safer, ways.

           Disobeying when she could, running from home to go to concerts with people her parents disapproved off, choosing a completely different major than what they had planned, moving all away across the country; it all helped ease the pressure of being closeted. More importantly, it kept her sane. It kept her going until she could reach the place where there would be no more need to hide.

           College was that place. The first weeks weren’t as she had hoped, she knew nobody, was a stranger to the city she had decided to call home and was refusing to touch the money her parents were sending. She had begged the owner of a family coffee house to give her a job; he had, in a blissful show of faith which she could never thank enough. Slowly, but steadily, Kate had begun to create a little nest for herself. Making friends and building the kind of life she wanted to live.

           Meeting Miss Viola had changed everything. Falling in absolute and irrevocable love with her had been a simple matter of moving from A to B and in her heart, she couldn’t find any regrets. To her parents, of course, the entire endeavor was a step in a misguided direction, but, since a very young age, Miss Kate knew it was only a matter of time. Being with her made it seem like nothing could stand in the way. That was why, when push came to shove, that the outburst at her father’s studio felt so much like absolution. Horrible as it might’ve been, now, truly, there was nothing indeed.

           It wasn’t a shock to her when Mrs. Levine and Mr. Levine reacted in such different ways to the same information, choosing to act out their bigotry in their own form.  Being asked to take Viola and leave the house as soon as possible didn’t hurt as much as the empty promises pouring out of her mother’s mouth: “we will fix this, it doesn’t have to be like this, we can make it normal again”, she had said. It felt heavy in her gut, but the lack of acceptance came naturally and she took it as gracefully and she could.

           They packed in silence, but Miss Viola still felt like a strong, comforting presence in the room; the safety of her quiet support spoke volumes and it made everything just a little bit better. To all honesty, Miss Kate Levine had no idea when or if she was ever going to be allowed back in her parents’ home, so she indulged a minute to let the nostalgic sadness settle. It was going to be okay.

            It was well past midnight and the false feeling of calmness made Mr. James Foster unease. He knew perfectly well that somewhere in the house next door, a family was breaking apart. Right after Oliver left him to join his family, the screaming match had settled, but it was too late for the guests to politely pretend they hadn’t heard a thing. So, naturally, when Mrs. Levine came down the stairs, looking flushed and with a slighting drippy mascara, everyone knew it was time to leave. James included. He had wanted to hang around in case Oliver needed him, but seeing Mrs. Levine walk down to Amy and bring the girl with the worried look on her face to rest against her chest, made him feel suddenly out of his element.

            His mother wasn’t home when he arrived and he didn’t try to call her, keeping in mind she was probably out having fun for the first time in god-knows how long. He took a long bath and didn’t even try to make himself believe he could fall asleep. An odd sense of misplaced guilt was eating away the bottom of his stomach, as he could do nothing else but to sit there and wait, worry and wonder: how was Oliver?

            Netflix was doing very little to distract him from the growing anxiety. As he watched the first season of Dexter for what it felt like the seventh time, his mind kept going back to an endless streaming of variations of the same thing: Oliver, Oliver, Oliver, Oliver. He must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because when he opened his eyes and returned to reality, his account had stopped reproducing the episodes. It was almost two in the morning and he had a blanket around his body that wasn’t there before; his mother was probably home already.

            James felt tired and his body was heavy. Just as he was about to head up to his bedroom and try to get back to sleep, a shy knock on his backdoor changed his plans. Through the window he could see there were no lights or signs of movement coming from the Levine house. As he moved quietly to greet the newcomer, he didn’t bother looking to see who it was; he already knew.

            Mr. Oliver Levine was having an exceptionally shitty night. If he didn’t particularly like his birthday before, now he was sure he would never want to celebrate it again. The conversation with James and how nervous it had made him feel felt now as if it had happened ages ago. Followed by all sorts of other problems, he wished he could return to that moment.

            He had patiently waited until his father went to sleep to make his way to Kate’s bedroom. The packing was done and they were sitting at the edge of the bed, silently holding each other. Kate had told him they were waiting for the cab to come pick them up; there was still time to catch the last plane to NY. They didn’t talk much after that, Oliver wanted to reassure her that nothing would change between them, wanted to let her know he would always be there for her, but the words seemed to get stuck down his throat. He just hugged them goodbye.

            It was overwhelming and he wanted to escape what he was feeling. Painfully divided between the jealousy he felt knowing she was out there living the life she wanted to live and the fear of his parents turning on him just as they had done to her. So, he did the only thing that made sense to him whenever he felt conflicted: he went to James.

            To Oliver, the Foster house felt more like home than his own ever could. Not only because it was objectively less catalogue-like, but because Mrs. Foster made sure it was a place of support and unconditional love. Which was exactly what he was needing. He walked through the backyard and crossed the fence to knock on James’ door.

 

 

 

 

           

 


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There was probably something to be said about the depths of despair displaying in Oli’s face as he spoke. His fingers moved to play headily with the hem of his shirt, mindlessly distracting himself from the shit-storm that had descended upon his life."

            Mr. James Foster opened the door expecting several situations to unfold; he considered Oliver might be angry, might want to bleed away the extent of his emotions, considered he could be crying, in need of a shoulder, he considered him apathic and more scared than ever. All of which he was equipped to deal if it happened. When they were face to face, Oliver managed to surprise him still, crossing the threshold and falling into his arms in one single movement.

            As they held each other in the darkness of the kitchen, none of them dared to break the moment by talking. James could feel puffs of breath tickling the small hairs of his neck; Oli clawed at his back with the desperation of the doomed and there was nothing he could do except keep him there.

            Finally, Oliver pulled back, hunched shoulders and unwilling to make eye contact. Still without saying anything, he moved across the room, practiced to perfection to find everything even without seeing it, up the stairs, to Jay’s bedroom. Without thinking, James followed.

“How are things in your house?” – They were sitting on the floor facing each other, scored against the wall closest to his window. Their legs crossed underneath their bodies, casually angled to brush at knees’ length. – “How’s Kate?”.

“They are still fighting, my mom wants to “help” her, send her to a shrink, my dad doesn’t even want us to mention her name anymore. Am I supposed to cut my sister out of my life for good?”

            There was probably something to be said about the depths of despair displaying in Oli’s face as he spoke. His fingers moved to play headily with the hem of his shirt, mindlessly distracting himself from the shit-storm that had descended upon his life.

“Your parents are always going to want things you can’t give them. It’s okay to disappoint them sometimes, especially when they are wrong.”

“She is happy, though, even with all this crap.” – Oliver proceeded as if he hadn’t heard a thing James had said. – “She is content. I saw them together, talked to them, she is free and so freaking happy. I want to be free, Jay.”

            His inner turmoil didn’t stop James from reaching over to his friend and pulling his body against his chest. Suddenly, he felt a wave of guilt settle in his gut, the overwhelming desire to comfort Oliver had more to do with Jay himself than his friend per se. Still, he figured he could do both.

            Mr. Oliver Levine wasn’t a particularly sentimental person. He cried a few times in his life and was sure to cry a few more before the nail could hit the coffin. This, though, the raw panic, the uncontrolled sobbing and the lack of finesse in the way he was leaking feelings all over the place, wasn’t as common. In his head, a film piece started and finished, going through the happy moments he had with his sister, the years before he picked up the world to carry on his back, the way his skin tingled a bit wherever James touched him, all buried under thousands of layers of cowardice, fear and sorrow.

“Why can’t I be happy?” – He finally said. Throughout the meltdown, he allowed himself to be held and soothed, enjoying the warmth and the gentle caresses against his forehead and the trims of his hair.

“I can make you happy.” -  As if watching himself from outside his own body, James heard the words hit the air more than he felt them leaving his mouth. It wasn’t what he meant to say. The reassurances of a better tomorrow were on the tip of his tongue, before being completely overrun by his exceptionally stupid brain. It was an even worse when he realized it was true. He took a deep breath and pushed Oliver out of his embrace. – “Do you love me?”

“Jay…”

            As a child, Mr. James Foster was a scared little thing. He couldn’t sleep without the lights on, he was terrified of clowns, stuffed animals, horror movies, mirrors, the ocean, whales, elevators, insects and a great number of other things he learned to leave behind. As he got older, his fears were consistently toned down until he was left with a respectable amount of reasonable fears; like being an adult, leaving home, insects, the ocean and, god forbid, freaking clowns. Still, very little of his past experiences could’ve had prepared him for the cold chill that went down his spine in the few seconds between his question and Oliver’s hesitation. What probably lasted the length of a few breaths, felt like hours.

“Just tell me.”

“Why? What does it matter?”

            It mattered, but James already felt like he could probably go on the rest of his life without ever having to hear Oliver deny having any feelings for him. Of course, his heart was securely still attached to its rightful place, but the logic did nothing to take away the crippling sensation of having it fall down his stomach.

“I just want to know.”

“Do we need to do this now? Suppose I say yes, what then? Do we spend the night together, do we date? What’s your ideal scenario here? We are putting half a country between us. Do we date and what? See each other once a year? Do you start resenting me for being in the closet? For the distance?” – To his defense, Oliver probably didn’t anticipate having to have this conversation when he went over to the Foster home. Barely recovered from his panic attack, the minute he felt confronted with such a delicate thing which he kept hidden behind seven keys, he sensed it coming straight back. – “Fuck; even if I had those feelings for you, it would never work. Don’t u see that?”.

“Even if you had them?” – _Well, fuck._ It was this exact thing James had been avoiding for the better half of his life; the possibility of having his feelings returned was nothing compared to the other very real possibility of Oliver freaking out and pulling away completely. Apparently, in the last week or so, James had forgotten about that.

            James and Oliver had been seven years old when they held hands for the first time. To Jay, it was a normal thing to do with a friend he liked; but to Oliver it felt like his own personal little rebellion. As if he was doing something completely prohibited, he experienced a funny little thrill, inevitably followed by a not so funny little guilt. It was the start of a lifelong commitment to learn Jay’s cues. Now, despite being shoved from the comforting hug, their bodies were still touching in a couple of places and even so, he might’ve missed the discrete trembling coming from his friend, hadn’t been for the years of practice.

“Jay, you are my best friend and I love you. And I am attracted to you, yeah… But I don’t love you like that. You need to move on, man. I am sorry. Right now, I need a friend, not a boyfriend.  – It sucked. It was the worst thing he had ever done and already he regretted it. Within his thought process, he could see a few scenarios being added to the film running through his head: they would be happy and then they wouldn’t and, finally, they would be inevitably over. James deserved something better. 

“Yeah, okay. I am sorry.”

            There was no dancing around what had just happened. Oliver dreaded every second James couldn’t look him in the eye, it felt like being punched in the face when he moved himself further against the wall, as if he couldn’t stand the proximity anymore. When he finally looked up to meet his eyes, they were pliant, relaxed and just like ever before. When he spoke, there were no signs of distress.

“You can stay over. I am sure your house is not welcoming tonight. Let’s sleep, I am a bit tired.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” – He was halfway across the room before Oliver was even on his feet. “You are always welcomed here, Oli.”

            Taking him on his word, Oliver followed, not realizing how tired he was until he rested his body against the soft mattress that smelled faintly like James. Finally, the events of the day claimed his place and he fell asleep. James did not have the same luck.

 


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Perhaps dealing with fact Oliver didn’t love him wasn’t the worst part of the whole thing. It wasn’t until he saw them together, acting as a couple, with his mom hovering over them as if she was already choosing the colors of the bridesmaids’ dresses, that he realized Oliver wouldn’t only spend his time not being in love with him, he would spend it falling in love with other people. Or pretending to, anyways."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is loooooong due! Next chapter starts the second phase of this story :D  
> xoxoxo

           Last night didn’t happen; it existed in an abyss, it was another version of himself who opened their mouth and spilled their secrets like it was no big deal. He hadn’t been rejected, since his Oliver was never made the wiser about his feelings. Waking up to a cold spot where he was sure his friend was before morning, it was the mantra he kept repeating. It wasn’t real. It wouldn’t change things. It didn’t matter. He could get over it. He really could.

            He couldn’t. At first, the realization wasn’t all that clear, James got out of the safety of his bedroom with a renewed sense of hope; he was sure Oliver would allow him the grace of acting oblivious. He would let it all settle into a thick layer of denial. It wouldn’t be all that different from the years of practice they had pretending not to notice the growing tension between them. So, he walked towards the Levine home with a single thought in his mind. The faster he could be assured he hadn’t ruined their friendship beyond repair, the faster he could start healing.

            Every step felt heavier than the previous and Mr. Foster changed his mind about one hundred times before arriving to the fence dividing their properties. He peaked through the cracks in the wood to spot a yellow cab. The first assumption he made was that it was destined to Kate, but that couldn’t be right, wasn’t she already about to leave when Oliver came over to his house last night? Maybe they had company then? A relative stopping by late to wish the Levine boy a happy birthday? It wasn’t until he saw Oli walking towards the car with a girl in his arm, that he realized the obvious answer his brain failed to supply; Amy was going back home.

            Amy. The girlfriend. The girl he hadn’t even met the night before, since he had been too busy declaring his never-ending love for her boyfriend behind her back. The girl who had been convinced she was in a relationship with a nice boy from a good, Christian, family. The girl Oliver would probably marry. The one that would carry his babies. The one whose wedding day would be marked by the best man shooting himself between the eyes because of heartache.

            Perhaps dealing with fact Oliver didn’t love him wasn’t the worst part of the whole thing. It wasn’t until he saw them together, acting as a couple, with his mom hovering over them as if she was already choosing the colors of the bridesmaids’ dresses, that he realized Oliver wouldn’t only spend his time not being in love with him, he would spend it falling in love with other people. Or pretending to, anyways.

            Mr. Foster held his breath as Oli bend over to give her a peck on the lips. It was irrationality that made him think perhaps Oliver had left his bed in the middle of the night to go to hers; maybe he needed to reassure himself he couldn’t possibly have feelings for the boy next door. Even worst was to imagine what he would do once they were half a country away from each other. How long would it take before they stopped talking every day? For him to become ‘that boy I knew from back home’? Would Oliver call him to let him know he was engaged? Would he even be asked to be best man? Who would want a person that was in love with the groom as a best man, anyway?

            He considered going over there and imposing himself to them, spoiling their goodbyes or just making sure she knew he existed, he mattered and he would always be around, but that was a childish reaction to things he had caused and were of no blame of hers. Courage left him, as did the will to look Oliver in the face. Feeling defeated and dejected, Mr. Foster walked back home and went straight to bed, hating himself at the empty comfort of sheets that smelled vaguely like someone who didn’t love him. 


End file.
